“I have carried for months the picture of the cosey sitting-room at Idlewild set like a gem in the silver circle of memory. It is hard, very hard, now to feel that it must be only a memory; that I shall never see it again, and never be able to picture the little feasts of reason which your letters have so charmingly described. Still, home is where the heart is, and I regard this misfortune as only a temporary interruption of your plans. I know so well the motive springs of action in your nature, that I feel sure as soon as your strength comes back on perhaps a firmer basis, the old progress will be re-established.
“I heartily indorse your move in placing Gilbert in the manual-training school, and inclose a draft for one hundred dollars to advance your efforts. You need have no hesitancy in accepting it, as I find the books are regarded by bibliophilists generally as possessing all the value I placed upon them.
“As regards Elsie’s experiment in going as a cook, there is much to be said for and against. She will be subjected in such a position to much that will tax her high spirit; but if she is equal to it she will be the gainer in conscious strength and purpose. As a financial move, even at the average wages, it is undoubtedly the best thing that could be done; for even had the way been opened, there is no such money in teaching school or standing behind the counter. It is also a safer life for a girl of her beauty, because the seclusion of the kitchen has no such temptations as beset the workers in public shops and factories. The question of caste has evidently not entered into her calculations, because she looks upon life as it is developed from the standpoint of moral worth, and she is a charming example of the revival of primitive ideas. I shall watch the outcome of the experiment with a good deal of interest, not alone because I admire the fair experimenter, but because I also look upon the move as an incipient factor in social progress. The housekeeping and homekeeping questions lie at the roots of all philosophy; for man is by no means a sublimated mortal who can exist and theorize with no provision for his material needs. Still, if I could have had my way, I should have preferred that Elsie develop her character and fitness for the world’s work under less trying circumstances. It does not seem fitting to me that women should bear the brunt of bread-winning; there is other and better work for them to do.
“As for my school and myself, I think we are both growing in strength. I should indeed be faint-hearted if I did not feel nerved for the battle when I remember the fearful odds against which you and Elsie have set yourselves. I do not prophesy much in the way of harvest for you, for I know the world better than you do. Yet I know that with you a slender sheaf of the gleanings will be as so much saved for the All Father’s granary, and I can only bid you God-speed in all you do. I know those who come within the radius of your presence are lifted, albeit unconsciously, in aspiration, and I have no wonder at all at Eph’s devotion. I look upon it as a natural result of natural conditions, and I predict that in your home in the city you will find the question of how to find room for all the demands upon your sympathies and interests a much more serious one than it is now. I shall hope to have in the future, as in the past, a full account of the progress made by all of you, and trust that in trying to fulfil the purposes that actuate you, you will not forget what is due your health.
“Sincerely your friend,
“Charles J. Ely.”
Margaret read the letter very slowly, evidently finding much food for thought in the lines. That it was happy thought the demure smiles that almost brought dimples in her cheeks testified.
“It wouldn’t be difficult to turn back now,” she mused, “but it would be cowardly. It will be easier too to go ahead, knowing as I do that all my efforts are watched by sympathetic eyes. The determination to stand by Elsie and Gilbert, until character shall have been formed and purposes achieved, grows heroic as I progress; for in it I already discern, thanks to Dr. Ely’s eyes, a lever for the good of others besides ourselves. Duty has always seemed so simple and necessary a thing to me, that I don’t believe I have properly appreciated Elsie’s heroism. Poor little girl! I wonder how she bears the brunt of the battle, and if that tempestuous heart of hers is in daily rebellion. Antoine!” she exclaimed aloud, “we are glad this is Sunday and that Elsie is coming home to-day, aren’t we?”
“So glad that I can’t half read,” said the boy, tossing aside his book and looking up with a smile.
“It seems to me, Antoine, the violin has leaned more to elegies and dirges than formerly. That won’t do, for I notice you are not looking as well as you were, and I fancy you are missing Elsie too much. I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. Next week I shall look up rooms in the city, near Elsie, and we will have her home every night, and you—now don’t look so disconsolate—you shall remain with us and take lessons at the conservatory. I’ve arranged it all with ma mère, and I shall see almost, if not quite, as much of you as I do now.”